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An Underwood Thanksgiving
Back when I was 14 years old, I was obsessed with motocross. Whenever there was a race within range of Albany, I’d beg my dear old dad to shuttle me out so I could be there on the track. The competition was tough. I was up against these kids who had basically been racing since they were in diapers, with professional coaches and rich helicopter parents. Nonetheless, the thrill of flying across the dirt and kicking up dust as I took a sharp corner never got old. On occasion, my pleas would work.
often visit my aunt and uncle out in Aiken, South Carolina, or they’d visit us in Albany. But when my parents got divorced, and then when my father passed, Thanksgiving got a little more complicated, and many of us fell out of touch to some degree. Everybody moved away, and we were scattered across the country.
“One year, I somehow managed to drag my dad down to Gainesville, Florida, for a big race, on Thanksgiving Day of all days."
But last year, my mother and I went out to visit my aunt and uncle in South Carolina for the first time in probably 20 years, along with a lot of other folks. It was wonderful to get some family together again, and of course, the food was amazing as always. In my younger days, I was a notoriously picky eater. But these days, one of the dishes I look forward to the most is green bean casserole. There’s also obviously the turkey, which, if I had it my way, would always be smoked. I’m a big fan of almost any casserole to be honest. But if there’s one staple I could do without, it’d be the cranberry sauce. Really, I’m just thankful that Thanksgiving exists. It gives my family an opportunity to meet up once in a while and share stories of the old days. Motocross is great, but I think now I’d rather just sit down and have the best meal of the year with some of the best people I know. -William F. “Trey” Underwood, III
One year, I somehow managed to drag my dad down to Gainesville, Florida, for a big race on Thanksgiving Day of all days. It’s beyond me how I was able to convince him. When the day arrived, we had to eat two-bit turkey at some restaurant in the Sunshine State. The whole trip, he was a little on edge, aggravated to be away from the rest of the family. But me? I was in heaven. “One day, if you have kids,” my dad said to me years later, “I hope your son or daughter picks up some crazy off-the-wall sport that you’ve never heard of and drags you all over the country to do it.” He laughed and added, “Because that’s what you did to me.” These days, I make sure to be where my relatives are for Thanksgiving. It’s a great excuse to get together and catch up. The holiday used to be a huge affair, with my uncle and my dad arguing about the UGA-Georgia Tech football rivalry, and relatives from all over gathering with their children in tow at my grandfather’s widow’s place. When she passed away, we would
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